I Have Been to the Mountaintop

The End of the Torah

The image of a serpent biting its own tail is prevalent in many different mythologies. It first appeared as early as 1600 BCE in Egypt, and then later amongst the Greeks who called it the “Ouroboros”, meaning “devouring its tail”. The psychologist Jung saw the Ouroboros as an archetype; an innate, universal, prototypical idea:

“In the image of the Ouroboros (the serpent swallowing its own tail) lies the thought of devouring oneself and turning oneself into a circulatory process… The Ouroboros is a dramatic symbol for the integration and assimilation of the opposite, i.e., of the shadow…it is said of the Ouroboros that he slays himself and brings himself to life, fertilizes himself and gives birth to himself. He symbolises the One, who proceeds from the clash of opposites, and he therefore constitutes the secret of the prima materia which […] unquestionably stems from man’s unconscious” – C.G. Jung, Collected Works, Vol. 14 para. 51

Does this imagery help us to understand what is happening at that fateful moment when we turn, yet again, from the end of the Torah back to its very beginning? That instant, when we return to the start of Bereshit (Genesis), is the moment when Judaism “slays itself and brings itself to life”.

In cultures that are not based around a primary canonical text, there is a free choice of stories and they can be read in any order. However, a closed canonical culture needs to focus its adherents on the core text in order to sustain its identity. Built into the very concept of a closed canonical culture is the notion that at a certain point the story will stop. When we reach the end of the Torah we put the story of Joshua to one side, along with the entire historiography of the conquest of Canaan; turning our backs on the future we will head back towards pre-history. The biblical canon is brought to life, or better, “given a constantly renewable lease on life” (Yerushalmi, “Zachor”), by our predetermined relationship with re-reading.

The return to Bereshit is a source of eternal youth, but it is also filled with an anxiety that Jung alludes to. As the snake twists its head back into pre-history to consume its tail, the particularist tale of Exodus and Sinai is forced to confront the shadow of its universalist beginnings.

So imagine for a second what it would be like if, instead of heading back to the start of Bereshit, we allowed ourselves to read on into the book of Joshua. We would surely have to confront the crisis sparked off by Moses’ death and described by the Amora Rav in Talmud Masechet T’murah 16a: Rav Judah reported in the name of Rav: When Moses departed [this world] for the Garden of Eden he said to Joshua: ‘Ask me concerning all the doubts you have’. He replied to him: ‘My Master, have I ever left you for one hour and gone elsewhere? Did you not write concerning me in the Torah: “But his servant Joshua the son of Nun departed not out of the tabernacle?” (Ex. XXXIII, 11) Immediately the strength [of Moses] weakened and [Joshua] forgot three hundred laws and there arose [in his mind] seven hundred doubts [concerning laws]. Then all the Israelites rose up to kill him. The Holy One, blessed be He, then said to him [Joshua]: ‘It is not possible to tell you. Go and occupy their attention in war…

Rav understands that the death of Moses generates a huge sense of loss of continuity amongst the Israelites, which is then sublimated in violence towards the other inhabitants of the land. The book of Joshua deals with the Israelites’ anxiety after Moses’ death.

Additionally, were we to continue reading onwards instead of turning back to Bereshit, we would soon lose our sense of the coherence of the canon. Where does our story end? Why stop at the end of the Tanach – what about the rest of the Jewish story? Canonical cultures seem to be doing well in the contemporary world partly because they provide a sense of safety and closure.

Whether we read on after the death of Moses, or whether we choose to return to the start of Bereshit, we will be beset by tension and anxiety. Either way we will need to steel ourselves to the challenge: “Chazak, Chazak, V’Nitchazek” – “Be strong, be strong, and let us strengthen one another!” Have you ever wondered why we need to say such a strange thing at the end of the Torah?

Levy, Joel. "V'zot Habracha 5766." Limmud on One Leg. (Viewed on October 15, 2014). http://limmud.org/publications/limmudononeleg/5766/vzot-habracha/